Whiteboard
by ludicrisity
Summary: "The two blonds stared at each other acutely.  The eyes alone fought a battle of dominance neither set of which wanted to concede to the other." Gakuen Hetalia/Fruk
1. Whiteboard

"…Okay class, now remember, your homework over the weekend is pages 243-244 problems 1-30. I expect them all to be turned in right at the bell. I hope you all will have an awesome weekend," the teacher quickly dismissed the class when the last school bell rang.

Arthur rolled his eyes, _bloody hell, could this class have possibly taken any longer?_ Quickly packing up all his belongings, Arthur knew he wanted to get of there as fast as possible. He knew that Francis would be sauntering up soon, as always, to make fun of whatever quality the frog felt Arthur had lacked then thereof. They had hated each other on the spot. Arthur had always felt the resentment of his country toward the French was something to be proud of and firmly held on to that belief. Naturally, Arthur did not appreciate the French man's jibes at him.

"Arthur? Will you please help me watch the classroom for awhile and wipe the whiteboard clean while you're at it? The hero needs his coffee break," the teacher chuckled at his own remarks before smiling and leaving the classroom and strutting down the hallway to his well deserved "coffee break." _Mmm. Maybe he'll let me have it with maple syrup this time._

_Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. _Arthur raged in his mind as he grudgingly walked to the whiteboard running his fingers through his dirty blond hair in the process. _The whiteboard looks like it hasn't been cleaned for awhile now. _ He sorely regretted volunteering to become the class representative. _Damn that lazy American teacher. Can't he do anything himself or at least take care of his classroom?_ All of the students in the classroom had taken off upon hearing the bell leaving Arthur alone in the classroom. Alone with Francis and his scheming blue eyes.

Deciding his best option would be to ignore Francis by all means possible, Arthur began to pretend the other teenager was not there, leaning by the window with his arms crosses and a smirk across his mouth and tried to wipe the stains on the whiteboard that would not come off.

"Arthur," he purred. The British teenager immediately bristled at the sound of this name being spoken that that horrid accent, but responded only with trying to rub off a spot that refused to leave. _Like that bloody wanker in the classroom right now. Why the fuck is he not leaving. Wait for it…Wait for it…._

"Arthur," Francis chuckled, "you're not possibly trying to start a fire to burn off that stain? Or to possibly burn off that hideous caterpillar you call your eyebrows now are you?"

Arthur hesitated for a second, and then went back to scrubbing the whiteboard clean. _There we go. His usual insult. Now he'll leave. _

Francis, smiled at the hesitation and Arthur's new found fervor in scraping the whiteboard clean, stepped toward the Brit and placed his arms on the edge of the whiteboard around him. Close enough to see the sweat forming on the Brit's brow and his growing frown, but not touching him at the same time.

_Go away. Go away. Go away._

"Arthur," Francis whispered into the increasingly red ear, "talk to me."

_Go away. Go away. _Arthur felt chills run down his back contrasting with the heat Francis seemed to be giving off. He knew the Parisan was forward, but he never did this before, at least to him. _Fuck it. Why is Francis acting like this? _Francis never seduced. Girls, and boys included, just seemed to flock him wherever he went just begging for him. Arthur's resolve tightened as he felt the other blond edging his hand closer and closer to his waist. _Fuck. Damn it. Why am I blushing like a freaking school girl. _Arthur could almost feel the smirk growing on Francis's face. Arthur heard a rustle and felt the tips of Francis's finely kept hair barely brush his skin before feeling a cloud of moist air being blown at his neck down his shirt.

"_Arthur…Arthur…Arthur… Why won't you talk to peu seul moi." _Witheach word Francis made sure to get as close to the shorter blond as possible without touching him.

Arthur's resolve to ignore the Parisian finally broke and he harshly turned around to tell him to stop. However, before he could get a single word out, Arthur noticed the proximity of their faces. With mere centimeters apart at most, Arthur feared he might touch those lips before actually forming a word, cowered a bit, and backed up as much as he could clinging onto the edge as if it would make him stop blushing, cursing himself in the process. _Gentlemen don't cower._

Francis smirked even more at the British boy and looked his viridian green and fear-stricken eyes. He bent down to close the distance between the two blonds. Arthur felt the tension mount in the air and thicken with every second. He stared into the blue eyes and swore that there was a glint of something predatorial flash by. Francis opened his mouth and looked as if he was coming in for the kill, but instead, stopped right before the red lips of the British boy and whispered, "Arthur, you still have my calculator," before moving back, turning, and stepping away.

"I…I… don't have it you wanker," Arthur sputtered. _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What the bloody hell was that? I would never borrow that bastard's things. Fuck Francis. Fuck him to oblivion. _

"Oh, I must have been mistaken then," Francis looked over his back and smirked again watching Arthur's emotions rage across his face. "Au reviour, Arthur, see you soon," Francis said flippantly as he strolled out of the classroom with a bag slung over his shoulder.

Once Francis left, Arthur felt himself slumping onto the floor, a raging blush coloring his whole face and screamed, "FUCK OFF WANKER. I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN." _Why is my heart racing? He's fucking French. A frog. A perverted no good, wine loving bastard of a frog._ Arthur sat there on the cold linoleum for a few minutes focusing on the number of dots on the floor instead of the events that just transpired before getting up and seeing…_Oh crap. He took my book bag. That bloody bastard took my book bag._ Forgetting his teacher's request, Arthur immediately set off running as fast as he could through the hallways to find him. _No…No…He can't find out…_


	2. Book Bag

Arthur's footsteps rang through the hallway as he ran to find Francis. _I can't let him see it. Not again. I can't afford to be hurt again. _Arthur turned a corner and ran to the entrance of the school and saw Francis simply leaning by the swinging doors with Arthur's school bag casually slung across his shoulder, crushing it a bit against his weight. _That damn_ _bastard. He never did care about anything. _As Arthur drew nearer, he slowed down in order to seem casual, caught his breath, and strolled leisurely toward Francis. _That frog would have a fit if he knew I ran to find him. Almost as much of a reaction to if he saw what I had in my bag. _

As Arthur drew nearer, he saw Francis' mouth turn up into another smirk of satisfaction. _Damn wanker, I bet he never learned how to emote properly as a child. Bet that's why he turned up as screwed as he did. _Arthur walked right up to Francis, hooked his finger through the strap of his book bag and pulled all while not breaking contact with the Parisian's eyes.

Francis, refusing to let go, stared down at the shorter male and watched Arthur struggle to free his book bag from his grips.

"Bloody bastard, fucking let go of my book bag," Arthur spat up in the face of his offender. Francis' smile softened and let go when Arthur tugged with extra force, sending Arthur tumbling onto his back with a slight dazed expression on his face and the book bag in his hands.

"Arthur, I have what you were trying to take back."

"Wha...at? I don't know what you're talking about. I have my book bag right here with me a…and there was nothing in it of special importance," Arthur held his book bad tighter as he spoke.

Shaking his golden hair slightly and removing himself from the wall, Francis walked slowly toward the shaken teen on the ground, crouched down, and reached to brush his hair from his eyes before retreating at the last moment before touching the locks. Arthur's blush from before and from his run, if possible, grew redder at the nearing hand. He would have slapped it, but one hand was keeping him balanced while the other was still clutching the book bag for dear life.

"Don't you dare touch me," Arthur managed to choke out.

"And I haven't ever since before…"

The two blonds stared at each other acutely. The pair of green eyes with what used to be embarrassment was tinged with malice against and the blue eyes tinged with haughtiness and a hint of sadness. The eyes alone fought a battle of dominance neither set of which wanted to concede to the other.

Francis got up, while still holding the glare, and flipped out his pockets, and scattered the photos, the photos Arthur had been trying so hard to hide and the past Arthur was so desperately trying to forget at the same time, onto the floor, fluttering in the air with the slight breeze from the door like leaves against the afternoon sun all across Arthur.


	3. Photos

Arthur was stunned as he watched the photos flash before his eyes. Glimpses of him laughing. Glimpses of Francis smiling. Glimpses of them together. Arthur watched in horror as picture after picture of times he wished to forget floundered around in the air before finally resting onto his lap.

"Arthur"

"You bastard. Why did you rummage through my bag?"

"Why do you still have those pictures."

"I just never got the chance of burning them up," Arthur snapped back.

But Francis was not fooled by the lie. His eyes never broke contact with the vivid green ones that looked at him with growing resentment. The blue eyes begged the green ones to remember the times of the past despite the pain that might have been associated with them.

"Arthur, just remember for me would you? Can you remember everything we've been through?" Francis' voice was boarding on desperation. Arthur almost sneered. _That frog never begged for me._

Despite his desperation not to, Arthur's heart pounded from the memories that were rekindled by the deep blue eyes that watched him like a lover just like before. Wanting to shut his eyes and banish all of the memories that bubbled from within him, yet not wanting to lose the war between their eyes, Arthur dared Francis to continue venturing into places he did not belong in anymore. Arthur watched as the Parisian opened his mouth to speak, but before and sound escaped, Arthur hastily picked himself up and dashed for the door. The door that would separate that man and him. Separating the painful past from him. Leaving behind the pictures. Leaving behind his feelings and memories. Leaving behind the man who crushed his heart into a bloody pulp. _This time I will be the one in control.__  
><em>  
>Francis never tore his eyes from the dirty blond who was trying so hard to escape from the past that they had. The blond who didn't know that he still loved him and had never stopped. Mistakes had been made. <em>I should have never teased him so much in the classroom. I should have left him alone. But I couldn't. But I can't.<em>

Arthur ran until his lungs gave out and his legs felt like they were going to collapse underneath him. Tears he had been trying to keep in flooded out of his eyes in torrents. _Damn that bloody frog. Damn it. It's been four bloody months from then already. Why is he still making fun of me? I had resolved to forget about the time completely. Why does he open old wounds? Bloody sadistic bastard. _

Arthur closed his eyes to let the last bit of tears leave his eyes. _Why does he make me act like such a sodding girl. Look at me. I'm crying my heart out. It's bloody disgusting._ He could see the taunting manner in which Francis had merely tossed the photos containing their past onto the ground, mocking him for ever valuing the memories. It was another game to him. Play with Arthur's feelings. That's all it ever was. After all of these thoughts coursed though his mind, he momentarily snapped out of his lull to figure out where the hell he was. Relaxing for a moment, he opened his fist with a picture he had instinctually grabbed before he had fled.

Unfurling the picture, Arthur gazed down at the crumpled image in his hand. It was a picture of him and Francis arms, around each other laughing and smiling at each other in a way completely lost to Arthur now. It was a picture of them in school, taken by Elizabeta, a Hungarian friend of his sister. A perfectly, beautiful candid photo of them. Elizabeta was always good at stalking couples, especially those of the homosexual variety, Arthur thought to himself amusedly. Unconsciously, Arthur began smoothing out the wrinkles and sat there just soaking in the warm, crisp, clear afternoon of the day, losing himself in the memories he had been holding back in the presence of Francis.

"_You bloody git. I hate you."_

"_Ah. But mon amor, I know you don't," Francis smiled warmly and wrapped his arms around the pouting English boy. _

"_Get your perverted hands off of me or you'll be sorry." Arthur blushed, but didn't carry out with his threat. If anything, Arthur pressed his should even more into the Parisian's chest. Francis kissed the top of his boyfriend's forehead and felt Arthur slowly begin to wrap his own arms around his body as well. _

_*click* _

_Arthur momentarily snapped out of his haze of happiness and looked up to see his sister and Elizabeta smiling down at him with a camera in the hands of the latter. Arthur almost pushed his boyfriend onto the ground; he was so astonished. Crap. _

_Victoria purred, "Arthur… I never put you as one to swing that way. Especially with a frog."_

"_Shut up. I do not like him." _

"_That is totally why you had your arms all around each other."_

"_I see that American is still rubbing off on you. How long have you liked him again?"_

"_Shut it Kirkland. Stop trying to change the subject. At least I'm straight and not fraternizing with the enemy," Victoria teased and glanced back at Francis with a wink. _

_Francis pulled Arthur close again and blew into his reddening ear. "Arthur… no need to be ashamed of our relationship." Elizabeta giggled a little in the background and took a few more pictures._

"_No point in denying it my dear brother, I don't think I've ever seen you quite that red before. And you're practically sitting on his lap." _

_Arthur blushed even redder and tore himself off of Francis' legs as quickly as possible and placed himself out of the clingy man's reach. _

_Once settled, Arthur spoke with as much dignity as he could muster considering the situation, "Victoria, I would appreciate it if you and Elizabeta could hand me that camera so I can delete those unbecoming pictures you have decided to take of us."_

"_That is if you can catch us," Victoria winked once more at Francis and then took off with Elizabeta, camera in hand. _

_Unbeknownst to Arthur, Francis had scooted closer to him once more and grabbed his waist before the frazzled British boy could get up and chase after them._

"_I get a copy of those pictures, Lizzie," Francis shouted to the disappearing backs of the two girls. _

"_Fuck you. Everyone just likes making my life miserable," Arthur glowered after giving up trying to get out of the release of the French boy. _

"_I would be happy to. Name the time and place," a gleam of something predatorial flashed through his sky blue eyes._

"_Wha…?" Arthur said baffled for a split moment before comprehension dawned. But Arthur just kissed his boyfriend on the lips for a split second before abruptly pulling himself away, straightening his uniform that somehow became unbuttoned while saying, "We're going to be late for class," just as the bell rang. Francis slowly got up from where he was sitting and walked side by side, hand in hand, and step in step, with Arthur into the building to class._


End file.
